5 Uncomfortable Truths About Traveling as a Gay Interracial Couple
This is an honest piece based on our personal experience traveling as a gay interracial couple. It’s raw, unfiltered, and hopefully helpful to those of you who might experience the same.
On a felucca along the Nile River in Cairo, Egypt
When we started traveling together—me, a gay Latino raised in the U.S., and him, a white Scottish guy with charm to spare—we knew we’d face some unique challenges. But we never expected, as we began researching, that we would find very little about what it’s like traveling as an interracial couple. It’s much harder to find anything about what happens when the world sees one of you differently because of the color of your skin. That’s part of why we started Traveling Boyfriends.
Being gay travelers in an interracial relationship isn’t mutually exclusive, but when those two identities intersect, the experience becomes a lot more complex. So, here are five uncomfortable truths I’ve learned traveling as a gay person of color in an interracial couple. Some of these are small, easily missed if you blink, but they build up.
5. I’ve been pulled aside and questioned. Not him.
There’s one country I won’t name, only because aside from this moment, we felt completely welcomed. But I was pulled aside twice at the airport for extra questioning. About my name. My background. If I had sharp items in my luggage. If anyone had handed me anything suspicious. This has happened a few times.
What made it worse was the stares from other passengers held up in line. Their eyes carried a level of skepticism, a nervousness that there might, in fact, be a sharp item in my luggage. I felt embarrassed, especially when Davey wasn’t asked one question. I’ve been randomly selected and frisked at airports, my luggage has been checked twice, you name it. I’ve become so used to it that at times I don’t really think about it, and that, in and of itself, is sad.
4. He gets the smiles. I get suspicion.
From hotel check-ins to airport security to casual conversation, Davey gets the benefit of the doubt. He gets friendliness, jokes, and helpful energy. I get hesitation. A longer look. Sometimes it’s subtle, just a shift in tone. Sometimes it’s obvious. Either way, it’s a pattern.
And it’s not so much about being liked, rather about being seen as equal. When that doesn’t happen, it chips away at your sense of self. No matter how respectful or kind I may be, it doesn’t always matter because someone with an internalized bias has already decided how they’re going to treat me. And of course it’s not Davey’s fault, and he steps in whenever he notices the mistreatment, but it goes to show just how easily the world assigns value based on skin tone. And you’d be surprised, sometimes it’s even worse within our own gay community. We’ve been to gay bars where someone might want to talk to Davey and will completely ignore me. And when they notice we’re together, the look… It’s wild, but haters gonna hate. :P
Madrid, Spain (celebrating Omie’s birthday)
3. In white countries, I can be invisible. In brown ones, we’re both seen.
This one might come off harsh, but I think it’d be wrong not to talk about it because it happens more often than we realize. When I’m in countries where the majority of people look like me – Morocco, Mexico, Thailand, etc – I often feel more at ease. It’s not always perfect, but there’s a warmth, an acceptance in the way people engage. I’m not being scanned and categorized before I speak. And interestingly enough, Davey is embraced as well. Included in conversations, even if there’s a language barrier. The warmth envelopes him, too.
But when we’re in majority white countries? Some of that warmth towards me tends to disappear. One of the first trips we ever took as a couple was to Montenegro, and I remember walking into a grocery store alone and feeling heads turn in my direction. When I went up to the cashier, the smile she carried for other shoppers quickly faded. She didn’t look at me, didn’t speak. She just scanned my items and then tossed the receipt at me, even as my hand was extended. I was a bit shocked, and I guess I hadn’t really noticed these things before because I was always with Davey. That’s when I realized that maybe he was, and is, a protective crutch in certain situations. How often I unconsciously rely on his presence to feel safe and acknowledged. And this wasn’t just once, it happens often, especially in Eastern European countries.
2. The bill always goes to him—even when I ask.
This one might sound silly and small, compared to the real issues of the world, but it’s annoying. We’ve eaten out in dozens of cities and almost every time, the bill is placed in front of Davey. Not always but enough times that it’s obvious, especially in higher-end restaurants. The only time it lands in front of me or on the center of the table is when our server is also a person of color.
It seems harmless, but it implies something deeper: it’s this quiet confirmation of where people think power and money sit in an interracial relationship. That Davey is the provider, the one in control. It’s not about the bill. It’s about how people assume your worth.
1. He’s confident. I’m ‘sassy.’
I saved the best for last because this one irks me beyond belief. Traveling the world means meeting people from all walks of life, and there is this universal stereotype that Latinos are sassy. When Davey stands up for himself, he’s confident. When I do it, I'm ‘sassy.’ No matter the country, the language, or the setting, this stereotype follows me around like carry-on luggage. And sure, sometimes I am sassy, but the way people use that label for everything is what irks me.
It’s a stereotype that holds weight because of places like America, which are often the first to push this narrative. The idea that all Latinos are some kind of monolith, and therefore all are ‘sassy,’ is silly. People of color can stand their ground without being labeled “aggressive” or “sassy.” Maybe, just maybe, they’re confident, too.
But here’s the ultimate truth: the world is full of surprises.
Reading this back, it might sound heavy, and it is. These are the things people don’t always talk about when they post their perfect couple photos, but these things are real.
Still, while the world has taught us many truths about being an interracial gay couple, this is the most important lesson we’ve learned from traveling: People might and will surprise you. We’ve found kindness in countries with anti-gay laws. We’ve been welcomed in places we were warned about like when a Chef in St Lucia came out to wish Davey a happy birthday and ended by saying, ‘In St Lucia, everyone is welcomed.’ We’ve been seen, not just tolerated, by strangers who made us feel like we belonged.
So while the world isn’t always easy, it’s still ours. If you’re queer, if you’re in an interracial relationship, if you’re thinking of traveling: go. Show up. Take up space. Because visibility is power and loving out loud, even when it’s uncomfortable, is one of the best things we can do.
And there’s no better way to do it than with someone you love by your side.
All the love and Safe travels!
Davey & Omie
Ps: If you’re looking for honest takes on gay travel, follow us on social media. x
